Personal spaces
by Leseguenni
Summary: If two people spend a lot of time together in a fairly convined space, one of two things will happen: Either they'll grow closer, or they'll start hating each other.


Start

House sat at his piano, deeply engrossed in whatever piece he was playing. Wilson sighed inwardly. He knew from experience that it would be completely fruitless to try to talk to him right now.

So he plopped on House's couch and waited. He knew that House had noticed his arrival, so he hoped his friend would cut his playing session short. Alas, no such luck. After ten minutes Wilson gave up for the time being. He started looking through a sizeably large pile of mail that was sitting messily on the table. Wilson was nearly done with the stack, (Most of it had been junk anyway), when something caught his attention. The letter came from House's landlord. After reading it, he was somewhat shocked. So much so, in fact, that he read the document a second time.

"House!" Something in his voice must have alerted the other man to the seriousness of the situation because he immediately stopped playing and turned to Wilson.

"What's the emergency?"

"Do you actually read your mail sometimes?"

"Sometimes, yes. As often as most other people, probably not. Mainly because it's mostly junk. So what big news did I miss? Did I inherit a million or something?"

"Hardly."

With a sigh House grabbed his cane, stood up, and went to the couch. He took the letter from Wilson's hand before plopping down next to him.

"Shit!" was the only word that left Houses mouth after reading it. Honestly, what else could you say after learning that you had to move out of your apartment during the next three weeks?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

After politely knocking and receiving a positive answer, Cameron entered Wilson's office. Wilson looked up from the newspaper that he had been reading.

"Hi, what brings you here? I mean, not that it's not nice to see you…"

Cameron smiled. "It's okay. Actually, I have two reasons for being here. First I have a patient for you." Her face became serious as she put a file onto the oncologist's desk. Wilson browsed it quickly and nodded without commenting. The man would die; they both knew that, no reason to dwell on bad facts.

"And the second reason?"

"Actually, I've a proposal for you." While she was speaking Cameron had sat down in the chair in front of Wilson's desk. Wilson looked somewhat sheepishly between her and the newspaper before him.

"Would you mind terribly if we talked about it at lunch? Right now, I'm a bit busy."

"With reading the newspaper?"

"Well… actually I'm looking for a new apartment for House." After Cameron only gave him a questioning gaze, he elaborated. "He received a letter that his lease is up, and the landlord wants to renovate the place, which includes combining smaller ones to make bigger ones. So he has to move out of there by the end of the month. And since he has actually been busy during the last few days I'm trying to help."

Cameron nodded, but didn't comment otherwise. An idea had started to form in her head. Finally Wilson's voice brought her back to reality.

"Cameron? everything alright?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

She stood up, and made her way to the door. As she opened it, she heard Wilson's voice again. "So what about lunch?" She shrugged, but turned around once more.

"I don't know yet, just call me when you're going. But there's a fairly good chance my problem just solved itself. Or will be replaced by another. Probably depends on your point of view." With that she closed the door, and left a somewhat confused Wilson behind.

XXXX

House sat behind his desk and bounced his tennis ball off the wall. He hated it when he hadn't even have an inkling as to which direction to go with a diagnosis. It didn't help that his thoughts drifted away on a regular basis. He wasn't exactly happy about the fact that his life would change significantly during the next few weeks. He just hoped he'd have a chance to actually find and choose a place before the month was up. He was brought from his thoughts when he heard someone sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. He looked up and into a very familiar female face.

"Tell Cuddy we have a case."

Cameron smiled "She probably knows that. She has nothing to do with me being here."

"So what do you want?"

He could practically see her mind working. So it wasn't just a consult or something similar. After nearly half a minute she suddenly asked: "Where you ever at Chase's place?"

Two weeks ago, that would have been a fairly odd question, but not now. "I'm astonished, that it took Wilson that long to blab to you."

"He didn't, well not intentionally. I caught him inspecting ads in the newspaper."

House nodded. He played with his cane, while thinking about Cameron's unasked question.  
"I doubt Chase will be pleased, when he comes back, and finds someone else there. Besides, I'm not really keen on a short time solution."

"He won't come back."

"So you'll go to Australia in the near future too?" House was surprised that he actually wasn't that happy with the prospect.

"I doubt it. And if I ever could go there, it won't be because of Chase."

House tried to hide his surprise. But if Cameron's smirk was any indication, he wasn't really successful. He didn't really know what to say about it. Cameron didn't seem too upset about it, but until recently she and Chase were in a fairly happy relationship. Well, that was a puzzle he would try to solve later. So he decided on a fairly uncreative answer. "That's one way to delay the rumor mill."

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't spur it on."

"So your offer is a bribe?"

She rolled her eyes, like he knew she would, but didn't comment otherwise.

"What about his room-mates?" Although House had never actually been to Chase's place he knew that he hadn't lived there alone.

"Well that's the problem. Obviously, Robert going away was some kind of secret signal because Diane and Michael decided to move out as well. So now I'm stuck with an apartment that I love, but that's too big and too expensive for me."

"So basically, you're asking me to move in with you."

This time it was Cameron's turn to just nod.

House thought about her offer. On one hand, it would actually solve his problem. On the other hand… he didn't want to owe anybody anything. Plus, he knew himself well enough to realize that living with him would definitely not be easy. Chances were pretty high that he would hurt Cameron one way or another. And although he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to lose that, whatever it was they had between them. He wasn't willing to call it a friendship. But somehow, over the last several years she had become more than just another puzzle. He decided to tell her so. Well, the bad-idea part.

"You know that I'm not the sharing type."

She shrugged. "During the last year, there were four people that lived there. Admittedly, we're not as socially challenged as you, but I think we'd manage."

"Did you ask anybody else?"

"Yes. Dr. Clancy from pediatrics, and Linda, one of the nurses. Alas, both said no. This morning, I wanted to ask Wilson. That's when I caught him looking at the ads. Well, if you really say no I'll ask him after all. I can't imagine living in a hotel for that long being that nice."

It was House's turn to nod again. They both knew that Wilson wouldn't say no to Cameron. Not after she helped him through the Amber mess during the last year. Well to be fair, she had helped them both. Somehow she had managed to collect the scattered pieces of their friendship, and put them back together.

"So once again, you feel the urge to be nice."

"Like you said, it's my pathology. But I think I'll live." Her pager beeped. She stood up. "So what's your decision?"

"If there's no other choice till Sunday, I'll try to get used to the idea. Otherwise, Wilson will have to be enough."

She nodded and left his office. He sighed inwardly. He knew very well that chances were fairly slim that he or Wilson would find an apartment on such short notice. But who knew; perhaps luck was on his side for once. If not he'd not only have to get used to living with someone else again, but also the fact, that he would owe Cameron (Not that she'd see it that way). He shrugged inwardly. He'd think about that later. Right now he had a life to save.

Mine

House plopped on his couch and surveyed his surroundings. Except for his TV, there wasn't a lot to see. Well if you found boxes interesting, there was, but House didn't. Sooner or later he'd need to sort it all out, but not today. His leg gave him hell as it was. From somewhere outside his room he could hear some clattering. He'd have to get used to that. Not for the first time today, he asked himself why life was so unfair.

Of course there hadn't been another place anywhere near. So he had agreed to Cameron's insane idea. It hadn't helped his mood that Wilson hadn't thought it insane at all. So now here he was in the room that would be his personal space for the foreseeable future. The apartment was actually big enough so he and Cameron wouldn't be in each others' hair all the time.

There were three rooms, two big ones and one fairly small. Before, Chase had lived in the small room, the other couple in the one that was now House's, and the third had been a shared living room. Since he had made it clear from the start that he didn't want girl cooties all over his stuff, Cameron had put her stuff in the second big room. They had agreed to put things in the small room where both didn't mind if it got touched by the other. In House's case that had been only some medical journals so far.

A knock startled him from his thoughts.

"I made some stew. Want a plate?"

Without waiting for an answer she went back to the kitchen.

House thought for a moment. He wasn't really in the mood for any company. On the other hand he was quite hungry. Unfortunately he couldn't just take the plate and leave since there wasn't any space where he could safely put it. With an inner sigh he decided to let his stomach win. So he stood up and followed his new housemate into their kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXX

With an exhausted sigh Cameron plopped into her armchair. She missed a couch where she could stretch out. But the one in the living room had been Diane's. So it had moved out with them.

Secretly, she had hoped that they both could share House's, but that had been an illusion he had robbed her of very fast. Not that it really mattered.

With a smile she looked out of her window and watched the sunset. After all, she had gotten what she wanted. She could stay in "her" apartment. She had no idea why she loved that place. As soon as she had come inside for the first time, something had clicked. Michael had joked that she had actually stayed with Chase as long as she had so she could spend time here. A part of her admitted that that assumption wasn't completely off base.

In a way, she was grateful that House's mail reading habits were as bad as they were. Otherwise, he'd never have agreed to move in with her. Of course, she could have put an ad into the newspaper. But she hadn't really been keen on sharing the place with complete strangers. So although she had asked the two women at the hospital, she hadn't been all that upset when they had declined her offer.

There were two reasons she had chosen House over Wilson. The first, most obvious one was that House's need for a place was more urgent. The second one was more complicated. She knew very well that Wilson would have said yes. She was also fairly sure that he wasn't actually unhappy at his hotel. Otherwise he wouldn't have stayed there as long as he had. The problem was that the guy thought he owed her. She didn't want him to agree because of something like this. With House this problem would hardly come up. She doubted the diagnostician even knew the concept of owing someone.

The sound of a closing door brought her back to reality. She looked at her watch and noticed that it was nearly ten o'clock. Not really late, but she had to be at the hospital at six tomorrow morning. So she decided to call it a night. At the bathroom she noticed the box with House's stuff. She rolled her eyes. She didn't know if he just hadn't managed to pack the stuff away yet, or if he expected her to do it. If the latter was the case, he was sorely mistaken. She'd be damned if she'd do all the housework by herself. Although she had to admit to not exactly having a plan as to how she would make him do his share. Well, that wasn't anything she had to solve tonight. So she took care of her nightly routine and went to bed.

Differences

With a slam, Cameron closed her door behind her and plopped into her armchair. Sometimes she just wanted to beat that bastard up with his own cane. Ok, it hadn't been all his fault, but so what?

She opened the window and started to take deep breaths of fresh air. Although it took her a while finally she calmed down enough to sit down and read her mail. But her thoughts didn't stop drifting back to one of the least happy days in recent history, at least for her.

It had started without an alarm clock. So because she had overslept, she was in a hurry. Next, she noticed that the coffee tin was empty. And of course she had forgotten to buy a new package when she had been shopping for groceries the last time. So, she made herself some tea. While doing so, she noticed that the dish cupboard was as good as empty. And, consequently the dishwasher was finally full. Since she couldn't for the life of her figure out how that stupid thing worked, (modern technology be damned), she had written a note for House, reminding him to switch it on, since that was his job anyway.

At the hospital it hadn't gotten better.

First, she had to tell a teenage girl with a broken leg that she couldn't go to the camp she wanted. She had saved for that trip the whole school year.

After that she had to tell a woman that her fears were true and she had indeed miscarried. From the test results it also looked as if she could never get pregnant again. Cameron hadn't told her that, instead sending her to gynecology. House would probably have called her a coward, but the optimist in her wouldn't dismiss the chance that she might be wrong that easily.

During her lunch break she had had a run-in with Cuddy who had wanted to know where House was. On edge as she had been, her answer hadn't been exactly diplomatic. She had told Cuddy fairly directly that she wasn't Houses babysitter, and it'd be nice if Cuddy would understand that at some point. She had barely managed to restrain herself from adding that after all this time Cuddy should know that House wouldn't do clinic duty willingly unless he needed a distraction from either a tough case or a personal problem. The fact that Cuddy had been more surprised than affronted hadn't helped her mood either. It wasn't as if she never got mad at anyone.

Finally, in the afternoon the victim of a car accident had been brought in. A small boy who had barely started school. She and her colleagues had fought for his life for two hours. In the end nothing had helped. He had been run over by a car while crossing the street at a green traffic light. The driver hadn't even stopped.

When her shift was over she had started to make her way home. She wanted to stop at a gas station only to learn that it was closed. So she had to drive a much longer route to get gas as well as to get home.

When she finally arrived she noticed that House was already home as well. Since she had at least managed to buy a new pack of coffee, she asked him if he wanted a cup too. He had been engrossed in his TV show and just nodded.  
So after starting the coffee maker she opened the dishwasher and found the dishes as dirty as they had been this morning.

Now _that_ was enough!

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

House nearly jumped off his couch as his door suddenly got slammed into the dresser that stood next to it.

"What is so damn complicated about switching on this dishwasher that you can't even do that much?!"

"Well, since you're the one that isn't able to use it you tell me."

House didn't know if he should be amused, annoyed, or concerned. He had rarely seen Cameron that furious. If she could, she'd probably have spit fire. He'd bet his piano that the dishwasher was only the top of the metaphorical iceberg. The dead kid from this afternoon probably played a bigger part. Perhaps her argument with Cuddy. Although he doubted it.

Since his comment had stopped her rant he asked:

"So what else got your knickers in a twist?"

"You don't care anyway, so why do you ask?"

"Because I'm curious."

"Well, that's exactly the problem. For you people are just puzzles. For me they aren't. I'm sorry for that girl who can't go to Montana just because she tried to do well in her P. E. class. I hate the fact, that Mrs. Mitchell probably will never have the kids she so desperately wants. And I want to kill the person who ran over that boy. You weren't there! You didn't see his face! You didn't have to tell his parents!" By now tears had started to run down her cheeks.

"It wasn't your fault"

"Is that meant to make me feel better?"

House shrugged. "It's not as if your feeling sad makes it less painful for the patients or their families."

"Like I said, you don't understand anything! You only care for yourself. That's…!"

Woom.

With that House was once again in his room by himself. He stared for at least five minutes at the closed door. He wasn't really sure what to think of Cameron's outburst.

It wasn't as if he was hurt by her unspoken accusation. She hadn't said it. And even if she had, as upset as she was, it was a miracle that she had been able to stop herself.  
The real problem was that she still got so upset about her patients. He wasn't sure if he could keep his mouth shut about it, or even wanted to. But giving sarcastic comments about her caring nature wouldn't help their situation. Like she had said, it was part of her. She would always be nice. The question was could he live with it, and consequently, with her?

He decided that it was perhaps worth the effort. He somehow had gotten used to their mostly separate but strangely common routine during the last few weeks. And as much as it surprised him, he wasn't really willing to give that up.  
So he went into the kitchen to finally start the dishwasher. At least he had something to tease her mercilessly about.

Common ground

House sat in his office and watched the falling raindrops. They had successfully solved their last case; the patient would be discharged tomorrow or the day after. He was either actually on schedule or Cuddy hadn't noticed that they were done (he didn't know, and didn't care either). She hadn't come to harass him yet; that was all that mattered.

A look at his watch told him that it was nearly lunch so he decided to drag Wilson's ass to the cafeteria to get some food. His cell phone chose that moment to announce a new text message. So he took his backpack, located the device and opened the message.

'Fridge is empty. Anything special?'

He thought for a moment than answered:

'New cereal. Dragging Wilson to lunch, table big enough for three.'

While he put the cell phone back into his rucksack he thought about his situation. For nearly everybody else nothing had changed, well except his address. As far as he knew only Wilson and Foreman knew about the fact that he moved in with Cameron, although the neurologist hadn't said one word about it. Perhaps Cuddy knew as well. But she hadn't said anything either.

To his surprise they actually got along most of the time. There had been one major fight. And even that hadn't played out in the usual way. Usual meaning that there was a disagreement, some snapping, a lot of yelling, slamming doors, sulking, and in the end hopefully a kind of agreement and some making up.

Well theirs had been more of a competition in stubbornness. It was (like he had secretly expected) about housework. To his surprise Cameron's enthusiasm in that area wasn't much bigger than his own. The only thing she was willing to do on a regular basis was vacuum. Since that required an extended period of standing more or less stiffly in one place, he was excused.

So her only requests had been that he took care of the dishes, and put things into the garbage when he noticed them. Her exact words had been: 'Well if you notice some food is jumping at you from the fridge, I'd appreciate it if you'd put it away.'

While he didn't even try to mess with the garbage, (the doctor in him wouldn't allow that.) he tried his luck with the dishwasher. He also "forgot" to give her the money for the groceries when it was his turn to pay.

Just when he thought he had won, Cameron had started the counter attack. For one, she stopped bringing beer for him. Since he wasn't able to transport it from the car to the apartment, while she was somehow unable to manage the dishwasher; that made sense. Some days later she put a lock on the fridge and put most of the other food like bread and cereal in her room. Since it had been one of the expensive locks with numbers, it wasn't worth the effort to break it.

Of course he could have bought a steel saw. But he was fairly sure that Cameron would buy a new lock. So since he wasn't willing to put his leg through the strain of hard physical work for god knew how many days, he had given in.

What had even been more annoying, because it had confused him like hell, was the fact that Cameron hadn't acted any differently toward him than she usually did. She had neither yelled, nor snapped, nor showed any other sign of being pissed. The only time when she had acted less than friendly had been when he had asked her for some coffee. 'Buy your own,' had been her only answer.

House smirked as he thought about it now. She had definitely gotten some points on his personal respect scale. What still confused him was the fact that she wasn't happy about her victory, just relieved that things were settled. When he had questioned her about it, she told him that it hadn't been about the winning for her. Then she had added: 'And it wasn't really about the money and the fact that you're a lazy ass either.'

At first he had wanted to protest but then he just nodded. After all, she was right, he wouldn't have minded winning, definitely not. But the main reason for his "games" was his curiosity. As long as there was an answer, it didn't really matter what it was.

By now he had reached Wilson's office, but he couldn't see anybody inside. So he decided to go to the cafeteria anyway. Perhaps the oncologist or a certain ER doctor was there.

XXXXXXXX

Moving a cart through the aisles of a grocery store, regularly stopping and adding things, wasn't a task that required a lot of attention. So Cameron let her thoughts wander freely. She noticed that she was doing that quite often these days. Not because she had so much on her mind, but just because she could. Not being in a relationship as well as only living in one household brought some spare time. One of those thoughts was the recognition of the fact, that she was actually happy. Not the 'ecstatic jumping up and down' kind of happy, but the 'there's nothing big to worry about and life is quite a nice affair' kind. To her astonishment her good mood had a lot to do with House.

First of all, he had backed her up in her Cuddy problem. Of course not in an obvious way. He had just teased Foreman about the fact that Cuddy apparently didn't really trust him as her spy. Of course, Foreman couldn't just take this blow to his ego. So he had gone to Cuddy to complain. She had no idea how that meeting had actually played out. But afterwards Cuddy had stopped harassing her randomly about House's whereabouts.

The other, and by far more important reasons were for one, that she had made the right choice. That in itself was a nice feeling. And two, the consequences of said choice.  
It had come as no small surprise to all three of them as it became clear that Wilson moving in with her would probably have ended in disaster. From what Wilson had told her, she had expected House to be completely unable to keep a place clean; his experiences being mainly from the time when he had lived with House.

Of course it was possible that the Foreman experience had given House a push, but since Wilson had been at House's place many times, and never mentioned any kind of change she suspected he had been exaggerating all along. Anyway, shortly after their joining she had discovered that House's enthusiasm for housework wasn't much smaller than her own. Wilson had been actually shocked when she'd told him that she didn't think House was that bad and finally understood that she really meant it.

Of course, that didn't mean everything went smoothly. A smirk formed on her face, while she put herself at the end of the line for the cash register. It had its advantages if you grew up with siblings and cousins who didn't understand if you said 'no!'.

Afterwards House had been confused that she wasn't gloating. She had tried to explain that although she was glad that House saw things her way now, it hadn't been about winning or losing for her. The battle had just been a means to an end, nothing more. She hadn't really been successful; for House fighting and challenging other people was as necessary for surviving as breathing.

While putting the groceries in her trunk, she thought about another occasion when he had made this abundantly clear. He had replaced her makeup with only god knows what. She made a mental note to finally ask him about that. Well, the next day he had tried to brush his teeth with a cleaning cream that was used for fighting spots. He had been hoarse for the following three days. He hadn't tried anything since. She suspected he was waiting for the right idea.

Before she entered her car she looked at her watch. If she was lucky she'd be home before House. Not that she minded him being there while she was, but she wanted to watch today's episode of _Prescription Passion_ before they met and he'd spoil her fun. That was one of the few things where their fairly separate lives had become entangled. One day she had come into his room while he was watching the soap.

Since he wouldn't talk to her until it was over she had stayed and watched with him. Because a kidnapping had been involved she had watched the next episode as well. So, somehow, over the next days, she had gotten hooked. If House for some reason hadn't been able to watch it at the hospital, they watched it together on her TiVo. If she was at home while he watched it at the hospital they would text each other during commercials.

As she parked her car, she looked around. It seemed to be her lucky day; she couldn't see House's bike anywhere. With a grin she collected the groceries and made her way upstairs.

Weakness

Cameron opened her door after a well deserved nap. By now it was the end of October and the clinic was full of sniffling and coughing patients. During this time of year she actually agreed with House, like she suspected most doctors did. Although most of them wouldn't admit that. Any halfway intelligent adult should be able to diagnose a cold and treat it accordingly. Well, that was obviously one of those wishes that would never come true.

When she turned to enter the kitchen she nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud crash was heard. Some glassware definitely got broken. She stopped in the doorway to get some idea what was happening before she entered the site of the disaster.

House sat on the kitchen floor, in the midst of a puddle of water and some shards that had been the coffee maker's pot until a minute ago. Not surprisingly, (at least to Cameron) House looked like hell, and that put it mildly. As overflowing as the clinic was these days, Cuddy had actually made sure that House really did all of his hours. With the consequence that he had gotten the flu himself.

He hadn't felt that well the evening before so Cameron had assumed that he would use the chance to stay home. She had been wrong. His case had really been tough with no time to spare. So House had accompanied her to the hospital. He also explained that his blood was too full of painkillers for any germs to survive long enough to really give him hell.

An obviously wrong assumption considering the fact that he didn't try to stand up, nor gave any comment about her staring. She assumed that he had a fairly high fever, most probably accompanied by a pretty bad headache and the other usual flu symptoms. Cameron also suspected that his leg was a bigger problem than usual.

She started to collect the glass shards, while considering how to act now. In her experience sick people wanted either assurance or information. Often both. But House wouldn't need or want either. So she decided to be as helpful and decisive as House would allow, and otherwise act as normal as possible.

„What happened?"

House lifted his head. He looked as if he had just noticed her.

„I wanted to heat some water for tea. When it was done, I didn't want to get up from the chair to get it. So I tried to pull the pot at the front of the counter with my cane. Unfortunately my system chose that moment to send me a dizzy spell. Because of that I hit the pot instead of hooking the cane behind it. So the pot fell down, and because things got unbalanced I did the same."

A look at the table stopped her question of how he had wanted to make tea without a teabag and cup. Both sat there. Then she just nodded and threw the shards into the garbage.

„If someone asks I'm in my bed for the foreseeable future."

With that House tried to pull himself up.

„Stop that right now! You don't look as if you'd manage to even get to the kitchen door. And I'm definitely not strong enough to catch you if you get dizzy again. As long as you're on the floor at least nothing gets broken."

House didn't look happy about her protest, but seemingly agreed since he stopped his efforts to get off the floor.

„You realize that it's not a good idea to sit in a puddle of water for an extended period of time. Especially not for a sick person."

„Twenty more seconds won't kill you."

That said, she finished moppping the counter so no more water would drip down. Then she took Houses cane, helped him to pull himself up on the chair, and drew his arm over her shoulder. After she had given him his cane, they started on their way to his room.

While House undressed Cameron went back to the kitchen. She mopped the floor and put some water on the stove, so House would get his tea after all. Then she went back to his room with a thermometer to get his actual temperature. It was fairly rare for her to spend more than two minutes there. Usually, if they ever did something together, it was either in her room or in the kitchen. As she gave House the thermometer, he looked as if he wanted to make one of his usual comments, but he didn't seem to be able to muster the energy.

She used the time it would take the thermometer to get the temperature to search her cupboard for some flu medicine. Unfortunately the only stuff she had would clash with the vicodin that would be most certainly running through House's system in a fairly large dose. Cameron arrived back at House's bedside just as the thermometer beeped.

She took it out from under his arm. The man was either really worn out or had fallen asleep. Although his eyes were closed she couldn't say for sure. But the fact that he hadn't protested or even really noticed her touching him to get the thermometer was a fairly good indicator of how bad he really must feel.

„Damn!"

House had obviously really been asleep. Otherwise he wouldn't have been as startled as he was.  
She couldn't hide her worry as she showed him the thermometer.

„104.5 degrees. That's definitely a personal record." Although he tried to make light of the situation, she could see that he was worried too.

„Where do you keep your medicine?"

„Well the vicodin is with me. I don't have anything else. I threw everything out when I moved. So I'll have to borrow some from you."

„Alas, no borrowing possible. The only stuff I have would clash with your Vicodin."

„Shit. Wilson is still in surgery for some time..."

She nodded thoughtfully. She didn't even suggest to ask someone else if they could get some meds from the pharmacy and bring it to their place. But they both knew that they had to get the fever down before something really bad happened.

For a moment she stared at House in his bed with his red feverish face. A memory nagged at her. She got up from his bed where she had plopped down while talking to him and went to the bathroom.

Two minutes later she came back with some small wet, and bigger dry towels. She took a deep breath, put them on the couch and reached for the duvet at the foot of House's bed. She could see the panic entering his eyes.

„House I won't look. I only need your calves for what I want to do. I promise."

He seemed to calm down somewhat, but she could still see the apprehension written all over his face. She folded the blanket back to his knees and started to wrap his nether legs in the different layers of towels. Her grandmother had done that when she had stayed with her for the summer and had fallen ill. While her hands were busy she wondered that someone who always made people think he didn't care about anything, could be so sensitive about such mundane things as a scar or physical contact. She shrugged.

She wasn't House. She could live without having all the answers. Although she didn't deny that she liked to get them as much as he did. When she was done she covered him up again and started leaving the room. She just reached the door when...

„You're mean."

Somewhat startled she turned again.

„What'd I do?"

„Well nothing, that's the problem. I thought for sure you'd go all warm and comforting on me, so I could at least give you hell about it."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. in House language she had just gotten a compliment.

„Your sarcasm is obviously not affected by the flu. Sleep well."

With that she closed the door.

Outside in the hall, she searched her jacket for her cell phone to text Wilson. He'd hopefully call her back as soon as he got his hands on his own phone and they'd get some meds for House. That done, she called Cuddy to tell her that House would be sick for at least the next week, and she would need the next day off as well. There was no way she'd leave him alone if his fever didn't go down at least two degrees.


End file.
